


Heating Up

by MelOnEarth



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fighting Kink, Fist Fights, Hot Weather, Implied Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Partial Nudity, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelOnEarth/pseuds/MelOnEarth
Summary: While taking a break from the hot weather, Nora talks to Hancock about ways to kill time in the Commonwealth. Hancock tells her about fighting for fun in his drifter days, and challenges Nora to a fist fight. Her pride gets the better of her, and their feelings get the better of both of them.





	Heating Up

          The sun beat down on Tenpines Bluff like a migraine. The heat seemed to encompass everything in a way that occupied your every movement and thought, and portended no end in sight. Nora was no stranger to summers in Massachusetts, but summers in the Commonwealth were a different animal. The radiation bleeding from the dry, cracked land made the air thicker, and the bare trees offered little in the way of shade. Even the water in the closest creek seemed little colder than a lukewarm glass of water left to sit in the sun. In an attempt to beat the heat, Nora had traded in her constricted vault suit for a white tank top and denim shorts cut from a filthy pair of too-large jeans, but the feel of the sun beating on her shoulders brought on the realization that there was no sunscreen in the Commonwealth, and she would most likely burn by the end of the day. Yeah, the labor required to build up this settlement into something more livable was proving more difficult than she thought it would be.

          Nora had come to Tenpines hoping to aid the Minutemen’s newest ally settlement, but the sun seemed to be fighting her every inch of the way. Sweat filled her eyes as she hammered away at a shack by the cliff side. Every now and then, she would lick her chapped lips, tasting sweat as she gazed out at the distant horizon, the treeline blurred by the rising heat. She and the settlers had started working at daybreak, but the sun had just reached its height in the sky, and already Nora’s knees were sore and dusty from kneeling on the dry ground, and her clothes were drenched with sweat. Throat dry from breathing in hot sawdust all morning, she decided that noon would be a good time to abandon her work momentarily and take a break. Using the hem of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her brow, Nora walked to the newly-installed water pump for a drink. She began pumping with dreams of something icy cold and clear, like you would get from a pre-war water fountain, but the slightly warmed and metallic taste the Commonwealth offered from the tap would have to do. She filled a nearby dirty mug with water and drank greedily, feeling her lips and mouth soften from the soothing moisture. Still thirsty, she filled the mug again, casting a glance at the other settlers as she pumped.

          Looking out over the sunburnt clearing, Nora could see that she was not the only person sinking beneath the weight of the summer heat. Everyone’s skin was slick with sweat, shirts sticking to their backs. Based on the progress they had made—and the tired way that the settlers drudged through their work—their energy was waning. Even Hancock, who claimed his ghoul-skin made him impervious to the sun’s rays, had abandoned his red frock coat and tied his ruffled shirt around his waist as he hammered away at the workings of a shack roof. Nora’s eyes lingered on his lean, wiry frame for just a moment longer than she intended before she rubbed her eyes with exhaustion. It was definitely time for a break, lest she lose hands, or even herself, to heat exhaustion or dehydration. Still gripping her filled mug, Nora crossed over to the bell near her workbench and rang it three or four times, signaling the settlers to stop what they were doing.

          The handful of men and women working at Tenpines stood up without question, trying in vain to brush the dirt off their sweaty knees and stretching out their sore backs. Hancock drove one last nail into the half-finished roof before unceremoniously dropping his hammer to ground and easing himself off the roof. “Shit, gonna need more than beer after that” he groaned, one hand putting on his tricorn hat while the other pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. The dark-eyed ghoul made his way towards the settlement’s main shack along with the herd of settlers. When he reached Nora, he clapped her on the back with a rough hand. “You order all this goddamn sunshine, sunshine? I’d ask ya’ for a match, but I might be able to light ‘er up like this” he pressed the tip of his cigarette to Nora’s sunburnt shoulder.

          She brushed him off with a small smile. “Damn Hancock, I can’t control the weather. But I think it’s time we all took a break. Do you think we have enough shelter to get us all out of this sun?”

          A twenty-something guy with dark hair—Jared was it? He was one of the guys Nora found here when Preston sent her their way to deal with some raiders. He motioned to the abandoned house they had thrown some old rugs over to serve as tarps. “Yeah, but we may want to stay under the tarp. Only the main shack has a finished roof, and its hot as sin in there.”

          Nora nodded. “Let’s gather some food and water then. We should wait out the day and do whatever work we can once the sun starts setting and things cool off a bit. We’re not getting much done if we all keel over dead from heatstroke.”

          The settlers nodded and grumbled in agreement, and everyone pitched in to fill baskets with mutfruit and tatos and pails with water to drag under the tarp. Jared even hauled a crate of warm beer and a radio to their shelter from the sun. He was right—it was cooler under the tarp. Nora could swear she could even feel the hint of a breeze blowing in from the valley below as she cracked open a beer with a nearby screwdriver, but that may have just been wishful thinking.

          Noticing Hancock already seated against a broken wall, Nora plopped down on the floor next to him and clinked her beer bottle to his unceremoniously. He nodded towards her. “You can’t see a lot of the sun down in the vault, huh. How you hanging in there, sunshine?”

          Nora used the sweat on her forehead to slick her hair away from her face. “About as much as I can in this damn dustbowl. Why, do I look that rough?”

          “Not as rough as me sweetheart.” He took a long drag on his cigarette, breathing the smoke out as he continued. “Besides, a little dirt and sweat looks good on you.”

          “Ha ha.”

          “I’m serious” he mumbled, cigarette in his mouth as he reached for a tin of mentats. “The wasteland might just suit you after all.”

          Nora pulled her legs close to her, resting her cheek on her knees. “You think so? Seems like there’s more to figure out every day.”

          Hancock dropped a mentat on his tongue and handed the tin to Nora. “Like what?”

          Nora took a grape-flavored mentat, letting it melt on her tongue before responding. “Like what to do with all the downtime. There’s no television, books are hard to come by, and the radio plays the same songs every day. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do when you can’t work anymore. Makes me anxious.”

          Hancock nodded, accepting a bowl of mutfruit offered to him by one of the settlers and setting it down next to Nora. “Yeah, that’s a tough one. Especially out here in the boonies without a bar for miles.” He took another drag from his cigarette, leaning back and looking up at the tarp overhead.  “Back when I was a drifter, before I became mayor and all, we used to just get bored to tears sitting around in our little shacks. Didn’t have the caps to drink or even buy a radio. Used to fight each other just to keep from going crazy.”

          Nora furrowed her brow. “You fought each other? For fun?”

          Hancock chuckled. “Yeah, we drifters didn’t have to worry about getting blood on our vault suits or anything.” Nora frowned, but he continued, “But yeah, fighting didn’t cost a single cap, and it kept you from going too soft. Reminded you that there are still plenty of things in the Commonwealth could kick your ass if you weren’t careful.”

          Nora sat up straight, turning to face Hancock head on. “You saying us vault-dwellers are too soft, Hancock? Too afraid to dirty our suits in a fight?” She was teasing, but her coy smile had a hint of bite to it.

          Hancock set his beer down between his legs, resting his arms on his bent knees. “Sunshine, you make easy work of raiders and the like, but you have yet to go toe-to-toe with a seasoned wasteland veteran such as yours truly. I’ve fought things that would chew you up and spit you out.” He threw a sideways glance at Nora, tipping his hat forward with a certain swagger that spelled out a challenge.

          Nora studied him for a moment, considering whether he was making a proposition—and her odds in a fight if he was. Hancock might not be bluffing about his combat experience. She had no way of knowing how old he was, and he could certainly handle himself in a fight from what she had seen. Her eyes fell back on his bared torso, studying the tight pull of muscle across his arms and back and abdominal. What he lacked in size he could easily make up for in dexterity and raw functional strength. And who knew what kind of advantages that rough ghoul skin offered him. Nora was no stranger to a fight, but she might be in over her head in a one-on-one fight with Hancock.

          But then Hancock noticed her sizing him up, and he cracked a smug smile. “Eat your heart out, sweetheart. I can guarantee you they don’t make ‘em like this in the vaults.”

          Were she not already pink with sunburn, Hancock might have noticed Nora blushing, embarrassed that he caught her getting an eyeful. The confident sparkle in those onyx eyes made her stomach flip nervously. At the same time, that smug-ass smile made her want to punch that cigarette right out of his mouth.

          “Alright, Hancock.” She stood up, tying her sweat-dampened hair back into a ponytail.

          Hancock raised an eyebrow. “Alright what?”

          “Let’s fight, you and me” she said plainly, nudging him with the toe of her boot. “Like you drifters do.”

          Out of the corner of her eye, Nora saw the other settlers watching them, puzzled looks on their faces. Hancock cracked a hesitant half smile, but did not budge from his spot. “I dunno sweetheart, I’d hate to bloody up such a pretty face.”

          She finished tying up her ponytail and placed her hands on her hips. “I’ve seen you bloody up prettier, Hancock. Or is the Mayor of Goodneighbor too scared to fight a vaultie?”

          Hancock’s eyes narrowed “Shit sister, no need to make it personal.” He paused to think, and Nora heard whispers from the settlers, then silence as they listened with bated breath for Hancock’s reply.

          The ghoul responded by pulling his cigarette out of his mouth, crushing it on the ground beside him and untying his shirt from his waist. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along, but don’t worry love, I’ll be gentle.”

          Nora rolled her neck. “C’mon Hancock, where would be the fun in that?” she crooned.

          That made something flicker in Hancock’s eyes for the briefest moment—if Nora blinked, she would have missed it—but the ghoul rolled his shoulders and adjusted his tricorn on his head with a smile. “Alright then, let’s make it fun. I’m going to call that you won’t be able to as much as knock my hat off in this fight. I reckon it’ll stay on the whole time.”

          Nora raised a brow at that. “What are we betting?”

          “Pride, sunshine. The General of the Minuteman against the Mayor of Goodneighbor. Winner gets bragging rights in the next issue of _Publick Occurrences,_ or to anything that sits still long enough to listen.”

          Nora huffed at that. Hancock hit the nail on the head with that one. Whether he knew it or not, her pride was he downfall. “Alright Hancock. If I can knock off your hat, I win.”

          “And if I knock you down and you don’t get right back up, I win.” Hancock searched the room for a moment before pulling a tattered rug into the center of the room. “Whose gonna ref?”

          Jared, the dark-haired settler, stood up, beer in hand. “On it. Wouldn’t want to miss this for anything.”

          Hancock reached for one last swig of his beer before squaring up on one side of the rug. He eyed Nora mischievously as he set his drink down and wiped his mouth. “You know, the drifters had a no-shirts rule when it came to fights.”  

          Nora rolled her eyes, taking her place opposite him. “Nice try.”

          Hancock shrugged. “Wasn’t lying. Said ya’ wanted to fight like a drifter, but if the vaultie is worried about roughing up that smooth skin of hers—”

          Hancock was cut short by the sight of Nora, fuming, pulling her sweat-drenched shirt over her head and throwing it aside. “Fine, we play by your rules.”

***

          Hancock’s jaw dropped. He was telling the truth about the no-shirts rule, but he didn’t expect Nora to believe him, much less oblige. Hell, he didn’t expect the vault-dweller to agree to a down-and-dirty fight with a ragged old ghoul in the first place, yet here he was, struck speechless by her hot-headed confidence. His eyes dragged over her lean figure, slick with dirt and sweat, hair pulled back and eyes blazing. God _damn_ she was hot. Standing there in nothing but shorts and a faded black bra, ready to tangle. The cut-off denim hung loosely off her hips, showing the waistband of matching black underwear, and her breasts practically spilled out of her bra. Fuck, he’d had eyes for Nora since she first stumbled into Goodneighbor, but even all his fantasies about ripping open that skin-tight vault suit couldn’t compare to the possibility of pinning her in this fight, leaving her stuck underneath him and completely at his mercy. Or the possibility that one little slip or tear could leave that hot body exposed to him and all of Tenpines Bluff. _Shit fuck get it together Hancock you’re about to fight her for fucks sake_.

          Hancock hastily pulled his eyes up to meet Nora’s, adjusting his waistband in hopes of hiding the inevitable result of those unsavory thoughts. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice something hard in his pants in the midst of a fight. He pulled himself together and slapped on his cockiest smile for her. “Well damn sunshine, now that we’re both in uniform looks like we can finally get started.”

The other settlers leaned in with interest, whispering behind beer bottles and cigarettes—probably placing bets—as Jared walked up to stretch an arm between them. “Yeah, we all heard the rules right?” He seemed to accept the collective silence as an answer. “Fantastic. Alright you two just…I don’t know, don’t kill each other, alright? We still have a settlement to build here.”

The contenders both nodded in agreement.  “And may the best ghoul win.” Hancock added, making a point to adjust his hat before raising his fists in preparation. Nora smirked in response, adjusting her bra strap before snapping into a practiced fighting stance. Her tight little body suddenly radiated with a brazen confidence that made Hancock feel all the more aroused, and just a little uneasy.

          “Alright then. Ready, set, fight!”

***

          Neither Nora nor Hancock lunged straight into the fight. Both fighters hung back, slowly circling their opponents. Nora was no greenhorn when it came to fights—she made sure not to mention her time spent at the boxing gym in her college years. She may not know how she would fare with Hancock in a firefight, but hand-to-hand she might just stand a chance.

She had hoped Hancock would come to her first, but he must have been a smart enough fighter to know better than to close in on someone shorter than him. He had reach as his advantage, and Nora would need to close the space between them to have a chance in this fight. Deciding a better opportunity was not going to present itself, Nora lunged forward, hoping to duck in for a low punch to the stomach. Hancock jumped back, and Nora followed through with an uppercut that he leaned back to avoid. She continued like this, following one punch with another, leaving as little room to retaliate as possible. But damn was he _fast_ —faster than any ghoul Nora had seen in battle before. He moved out of the way of each attack as if he saw it coming a mile away. Nora wondered if he had hit any jet today as she attempted to fake a left hook before going through with a right one. Hancock fell for the feint, but caught her right hook in time to grab her arm and use it to twist her around and warp his arms around her in a full nelson.

          Nora growled in frustration, feeling Hancock pressed against her, skin rough at her back. Something in her stomach grew hot as she flailed her arms this way and that in an attempt to escape. Hancock chuckled as she struggled and leaned in to whisper in her ear “Look at you, sunshine. I can see Piper’s headline already: Vault-dweller caught in compromising position with the Mayor of Goodneighbor.”

          Frustrated, Nora threw her head back, cracking John right where his nose used to be, loosening his grip enough for her to drop out of his grasp. Arms free, she elbowed him in the stomach, but was met with stomach muscles taut and ready for the strike. Hancock exhaled as Nora turned back to face him, pride shining on her face. He smiled. “Alright, so kitty has claws. Now we’re having fun.”   

         Disappointed at how unfazed he looked, Nora began another furious string of attacks, searching frantically for an opening. Hancock remained on the defense, still smug as he glided out of her way with ease. Frustrated, Nora lunged in with a knee to the groin. Hancock deftly caught her leg with both hands and used it to knock her of balance and push her backwards. Scrabbling as she fell, she pulled him after her and fell flat on her back, the ghoul landing on top of her with an audible thud.

          Nora froze at the sight of John’s face inches from hers. It was then that she realized how close they were, stomachs pressed to each other, his chest pressed so close to hers that she could feel his racing heartbeat. Breath hot on each other’s faces.  She met his stare nervously, and saw him staring back at her, hunger filling those onyx eyes. She quickly averted her gaze, looking up to see that _his damn hat was still on_.  

Hancock seemed momentarily thrown off by his sudden tumble. Nora tried to take advantage of it. She shifted beneath him, wriggling her hips in an attempt to get out from under him. He responded by reaching forward to grab her wrists, and hastily pinning her arms over her head. Nora growled and bucked her hips in attempt to knock him off of her. She heard his breath catch when she thrust her hips up, and that’s when she noticed…wait—

***

         Ghouls didn’t experience the summer heat as badly as smoothskins, but damn this was a different kind of heat altogether. Here he was, lying half-naked on top of Nora—also half-naked—with her arms pinned over her head. It was like every fantasy in his spank bank times a hundred. Nora lying beneath him, looking up at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes. Nora panting lightly as she struggled beneath his grip. Nora’s bare skin pressed hard against his. It was all making him uncomfortably hard. Then the vixen has the nerve to buck up her hips, rubbing right against his erection. Hancock inhaled sharply as he tried to curb his already-intense arousal. It was then that he saw something dawn in Nora’s expression. Her lips parted and her eyes went wide, studying him quizzically. Hancock felt his jaw tighten as he tried to think up some smart remark to clear the air. Something about natural defense mechanisms, or strategic distractions, but damn if his head wasn’t spinning right now. Ghouls didn’t sweat, but his torso and hands and forearms were all slick from pressing against her sweat-drenched skin. They couldn’t have sat there like that for more than five seconds, but with all the filthy thoughts buzzing through his head, it felt like minutes. While Hancock was laying there like a radstag in sights, Nora began twisting her hands this way and that to break his grip. She was so slick with sweat, he had trouble keeping his grip, and she eventually slid her hands free. Somehow, in a blurry, twisted tangle of limbs, Nora flipped Hancock onto his back, pinning him to the dusty rug.

         Hancock exhaled. Another fantasy made corporeal—Nora on top straddling his hips, bra strap hanging loose off one shoulder. The sight of her there, breast rising and falling with each breath, eyes hot—it knocked the wind right out of him. His heart practically stopped when she started to lean forward, gingerly resting her forearms on the ground beside him, bare stomach pressed to his. The catlike look of her in that moment made him forget to struggle as she moved her face in close to his, reached forward with one hand, and knocked off his hat with one careless finger. It tumbled unceremoniously into the dust behind them. As cheers erupted around them, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I win.”

***

          The settlers exploded with cries of victory. By the sound of it, a fair few of them had placed bets on Nora. In a moment of winner’s confidence, she pressed her lips to Hancock’s ear to whisper “I win.” Despite the summer heat, she felt him shudder beneath her, and her face split into a grin as she rolled herself off of Hancock and onto her feet. She offered a hand to help him up, and he accepted it breathlessly. “Damn sister” was all he could say. Nora could not help but chuckle at the sight of the ghoul so flustered. “I guess there’s still a few things in the Commonwealth could kill you if you aren’t careful, John.” Nora froze for a minute, realizing she had let his first name slip—she never called him John. Why now?

         He definitely seemed to notice. His eyes locked onto her as he reached for his tricorn, his gaze filled with an intensity that made heat pool between her legs. He tightened the American flag around his waist and reached for his beer. “Can’t argue with you on that” he said, head tilted down, eyes watching her through the brim of his hat. “Better alert the presses I suppose. Old Hancock’s gone soft.”

         Nora grabbed his ruffled shirt and her own damp tank top from the corner, pressing Hancock’s clothes into his hands. “What’s wrong with being soft?” she asked in a low voice she hoped only he could hear. Hancock paused before reaching forward, eyes glued to hers, to grab her limp bra strap and snap it back onto her shoulder. “Not one damn thing” he answered. Nora watched him wordlessly, recognizing the lust in his eyes as he tied his shirt back around his waist. He made a show of scanning his gaze over her, undressing her with his eyes. Now _this_ changed things. Mayor John Hancock, with all his bravado and swagger, suddenly eyeing her up like a man starved. She rubbed her thighs together in an attempt to curb the arousal flaring between her legs. She’d be lying if she said she had never thought about it…

         Nora was pulled back to reality by the sound of Hancock striking a match to light a cigarette. Suddenly aware of how long she had been staring, she hastily looked around to see that, thankfully, the settlers had been too busy counting out and exchanging caps to notice the tension between the General and the Mayor. While they were distracted, she pulled her tank top back on, suddenly aware of how it damply clung to her skin. When she turned back to Hancock, he was offering her a cigarette. She took one. "Thanks, got a light?" Hancock obliged by reaching forward to light her cigarette with the burning end of his own, eyes cast down to focus on the glowing embers. Nora’s stomach filled with butterflies as she watched him, his face inches from her own again. Just as her own cigarette began to glow, he looked up at her through the brim of his hat, fixing her with a languid stare. She inhaled nervously, knowing right then and there that they were both in some kind of trouble. When she pulled the cigarette from her mouth to exhale smoke, Hancock placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you can meet me in my tent tonight, show me how you managed to grapple me like that?”

         Nora wasn’t born yesterday. She cracked a half smile at that, moved in close to him, and reached up to tilt his hat back. “Yeah,” she answered in a low voice, letting her fingers drag lightly across his bare chest before turning away to rejoin the settlers. “Maybe I can.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks everyone for reading. I've written fanfiction for fun for years, and finally worked up the courage to post something here. Feedback and/or suggestions are much appreciated. Hope you enjoyed!


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